You're not alone
by Cor'Chesters
Summary: It's been a week since Sam was forced to "Save" Madison, and he still isn't back to his normal self. My first attempt at any sort of fanfiction ever. Teensy bit of brotherly love involved. Nothing too fluffy. I don't own the boys, or anything Supernatural


"Sammy...c'mon...for the hundredth time, it wasn't your fault."

Dean was trying again to bring Sam out of his slump. It had been an entire week since the day Madison had tearfully begged Sam to kill her, to save her, and he did. They had shared a connection that Sam hadn't felt with anyone else since Jessica, and Dean had hoped that Sad Sammy would have left and made room for Badass-ready-to-hunt Sammy. But no luck.

"Yeah? Well it sure feels like it was. Maybe if I would have just—"

"No! Sam, dude, you know there was nothing more we could have done. We tried everything. Now quit blaming yourself for shit you can't control." Dean interrupted him, rolling over on his shoulder to give his brother a stern look.

They were in another crummy, desolate, damp motel room, somewhere in Georgia. After they left Madison's apartment, Dean knew that he wanted to get Sammy as far away from there and never let him look back. They were on their way to Florida and had stopped here halfway to get some sleep.

Dean definitely thought it would be good to get away for a few days. Sun…sand…tan lines and bikinis? Hell yes! They would leave that Banshee in Missouri for some other hunters to deal with.

"I know we did…Dean...I just wish…I dunno...She was so innocent, perfect, and I was the one to destroy her." Sam rubbed his hand over his unshaven face wearily.

"Why, Dean? Why is it always me?" Sam asked, his voice breaking slightly at the end. He scooted over to the edge of his bed across from Dean's, and looked up at him with those tear filled, puppy dog eyes that broke Dean's heart ever since Sam was in pull-ups.

Dean let out a stressed sigh, and rolled over his bed to sit on the edge of it, facing his sad little brother. He grasped Sam's wrists, which were clenched together on the young hunter's knees.

"I killed her Dean. " Sam gave a great sniff and Dean could see the tears welling up in his blue-green eyes.

"I murdered her."

Sam swallowed hard, attempting to push down his emotions to sit with the rest of them piled up in the pit of his stomach. What he always did when he felt his walls breaking.

_Mom, Jess, Dad, and now Madison? Why does everyone I love have to leave me? _Sam thought, as an unwanted tear broke free and forced its way out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the edge of the moth eaten, musty quilt he was sitting on and caught the tear before it reached his jaw. He was a grown man for God's sake, he wasn't supposed to cry.

Seeing his little brother like this crushed Dean from the inside out.

All he wanted to do was grab Sam, yank him into his lap, and let him sob into his shoulder like he used to do when Sammy was just a four year old in feetie pajamas who missed his Daddy. Often times John left the boys alone in a hotel just like this one when he was out on a particularly dangerous hunt, and it was all Dean could do to get his baby brother to sleep. But Sam was clearly more Sasquatch sized than toddler, and he certainly wouldn't fit between Dean's knees anymore.

"Hey, Sam. Look at me." Dean grasped Sam's chin in his hand, gently lifting him up to look him in the eye.

"It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. You hear me? I can't really say that I know what you're going through…cause I don't. But I do know how it feels to hurt."

Sam gave another sniff.

"But man, you can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy. Look at you, you don't even look like yourself anymore."

Sam knew how he looked, and he also knew that Dean was right. The person staring back at him with tired eyes every morning in the mirror wasn't him. The person in the mirror looked lost, confused and miserable. Like a puppy no one wanted, left out in the rain on the side of an empty highway. He knew he couldn't go on like this. Their job was too demanding, he had to stay focused, because if he let his thoughts stray to that long, dark haired girl…he'd be an easy target for anything.

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get himself under control.

"I know, and I'm trying. It'll get easier. It always does. Just gotta keep going, right?"

Dean nodded firmly in agreement, giving Sam's wrists another squeeze.

"Right. But Sammy…you're not alone in this. Ya know that, right?"

"Yeah..Dean, I know, and thanks. For everything." Sam returned the squeeze.

"That's my Sammy boy!" Dean grinned, and stood up. He crossed the small room to an even smaller table in the corner, littered with candy wrappers, a six pack with two cans missing, and an old copy of Busty Asian Beauties. Grabbing a beer, he popped it open, took a swig, and threw one to Sam, who caught it.

"To Florida sands! Shitty motels! And…string bikinis!" Dean toasted, knocking the side of his can against Sam's.

"Yeah..string bikinis." Sam agreed, with a small smile, and took a sip.

Sam knew he wasn't completely 100% himself yet, but for now, he would save his sadness for another day.

Tonight, he was going to have a beer with his brother.

"Hey! Hey Sam! Look at page 14. She looks like your type, eh?"

He chuckled as Busty Asian Beauties landed on the bed next to him.


End file.
